Finding my dad waiting for me at my place close to two in the morning isnota good sign.
Schooling my expression, I turn around to face him.
He’s sitting on the couch, phone in hand, as my mother rests her head on his thigh, fast asleep.
Double fuck. Both of them are here.
I pull out my phone and frown at the string of texts from Lidya.
Uncle Kirya is mad.
Just kidding, he’s super mad. He mentioned reckless and irresponsible. I never thought I’d hear those words about you.
Prayers for you, Vonnie. Will become the most badass leader on your behalf when you’re dead.
No, seriously, even Aunt Sasha is struggling to calm him down, and you know that’s almost impossible.She’s also worried about you. Can you believe it? You made your parents WORRIED.
They’re right, though. What’s going on, and why am I not in on your schemes? I thought we were bros.
Or cousins or whatever.
It would’ve helped if I’d received her texts while I was trying to calm myself during the six-hour flight from the island to New York.
Didn’t work, by the way.
Because every time I closed my eyes, all I could picture was brown, blue, the rough, shaky breaths, the masculine, woodsy scent, and the rush of adrenaline all the way to the base of my spine?—
“You have something to say for yourself?” Dad’s low but firm tone pulls me out of the unorthodox thoughts I ran away from but still couldn’t eradicate.
“Maybe you should go to sleep,” I reply in a calm tone. “Mom doesn’t look too comfortable.”
“The only reason your mother is uncomfortable is because you seem to be taking these sudden trips out of New York without informing us beforehand.”
I swallow, walking toward him, basically forcing myself not to turn around and leave.
Confrontation with my dad—and my parents in general—isn’t at the top of my favorite things to do.
My father, Kirill Morozov, is a fair man who’s dedicated to his family, but he’s also the leader of the New York Bratva, and that comes with certain shackles.
As I sit across from him, I notice once again just how similar we look. Mom always says her genes never reallyfought back. Except for my eyes that look like hers, I got everything else from my dad—the sharp jawline, the dark hair, and the same expression.
Dad is the older, wiser version of me, and one of my role models—the other one is my mom.
He places his phone next to him, his other hand wrapped around my mother’s back as he pins me down with his eyes. “I’m waiting for an explanation.”
“For what?”
“Don’t play dumb. We both know tonight is the second time in two weeks you’ve taken a sudden trip outside of our territory, where you’re the safest.”
I let out a breath, but it does nothing to expel the weight that’s pressing down on my shoulders due to his words. “I just wanted to pay the guys a visit.”
“You’ve always told us beforehand when you wanted to visit your friends, but not this time. We’re both aware that this is out of the norm, but it’s irresponsible of you, Vaughn. Without the right security in place, you could’ve gotten kidnapped, or worse, assassinated. Have you thought of what that could entail for the family? For me and your mother? Have you thought of the consequences?”
“I’m sorry.” The words feel heavier than the air.
He’s right. I could’ve gotten killed. Yes, the Heathens have good security in place on the island, but traveling there and back had less security than I’m used to.
I didn’t plan this accordingly.
